Dead Man Walking
by Princess-Bobbypins
Summary: When Rex moves into Weevil's neighborhood, he is at first excited to get a chance to leave his old reputation behind and make new friends. However, an upperclassmen in his new high school's gym class is determined to answer that age-old question: Does the carpet match the drapes? Full summary inside. Rape/non-con, Rape-recovery, Shrimpshipping. Chapter Fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Dead Man Walking

**Summary: **When Rex and his family move, he is made to transfer into a new high school. Hoping to start anew and maybe actually make some friends this time, Rex finds himself excited rather than annoyed—especially since his good friend Weevil lives nearby. Everything seems to be going okay until one of the upperclassmen in Rex's new gym class decides to make it his personal mission to discover whether or not the carpet matches the drapes.

**Contains: **Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Rape-Recovery

**Pairing: **Rex X Weevil, Rex X OMC

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or the characters and make no money from the writing of this fic.

**Author's Note: **This is my first attempt at shrimpshipping, so of course I had to bring a touch of my own violent forte to it. I hope it's okay!

( ) ( ) ( )

With the last of the boxes finally put away in his new room, Rex collapsed onto his new bed for the first time. His father had been offered a new teaching job with a renowned technical school and they'd had to leave home so he could accept the job. The job meant an increase in pay—which meant Rex finally got to get rid of the bed he'd had since he was five—and the change in location meant Rex got to escape all of the bullies. (A.k.a, all the people he'd pissed off with his ego after becoming the number two duelist in the region. Apparently, being short and scrawny cancelled out the respect he deserved as a top duelist.)

Rex only had a few minutes to relax on his new bed before his mom called to him from downstairs, telling him to come get dinner. The only think she'd unpacked for the kitchen was the rice cooker and Rex groaned at the thought of a plain rice dinner. He couldn't complain though.

No, not because he was a polite, respectful kid. He couldn't complain because his mom had the temper of a wild boar. She was nice as long as no one crossed her. As soon as one ill word was spoken toward her, Rex swore her teeth turned to fangs and she grew talons in place of fingernails.

Rex sighed and went down to dinner. He helped his mother plate the rice—which, to his surprise, had been dressed up with fried eggs—and served his father. His father said something about a call he'd gotten from his new boss, his mother hummed affirmatively, and Rex just ate his dinner, indifferent to both of them. They started talking about things that made them nervous about the new neighborhood (like the absence of a nearby fish market of all things). Rex liked it here. The new house was bigger, the new school was a fresh start and he'd already visited the campus so he knew where his classes were ahead of time, and Weevil lived four blocks away. He didn't go to Rex's new school, but they could still hang out on weekends or whatever. At least Rex knew one person in the area to help him find the best card shops and arcades.

"So are you excited for school tomorrow?" Rex's mother asked, finally finished complaining about the drive to the fish market.

"I guess so," Rex said. He was eager, but not exactly excited. No one in their right mind was _excited_ to go to school. To be honest, he was nervous, but he refused to admit that to her. She would start all kinds of weird baby talk about how he was still just her sweet, sensitive baby boy, even if he was trying to be a mean, tough teenager.

That was a conversation Rex was desperate to avoid. When his mother went to ask him more questions, Rex just shoveled his food into his mouth faster and made nonsense noises with his mouth full instead of actually answering her.

( ) ( ) ( )

A few hours after dinner, Rex had unpacked at least a third of his things and his parents had hooked up the television. They didn't have cable yet so they had to resort to either the news for the ten-thousandth time, or a movie. When Rex chose _Jurassic Park_, both of his parents decided to go back to unpacking the kitchen supplies, leaving Rex to watch the movie himself while eating popcorn and texting Weevil.

Weevil was telling him about a science project he was finishing, not sparing any of the boring details. Rex had never been much of a science geek, even if science was the basis of _Jurassic Park's_ plot. He was a history buff and he liked narrative more than numbers and experiments.

"I'm eating popcorn," Rex texted back, leaving out the movie he was watching because he already knew Weevil was going to say something like "how many times do you have to watch that movie before your pea-sized dino-brain can remember the plot?"

"Can your dog catch it out of the air?" Weevil texted in response.

Reflectively, Rex looked down at his four-year-old Shiba Inu who was sleeping on the floor with his legs splayed. Could he catch it out of the air? That was a good question…

Rex leaned over to look into the kitchen from his seat on the couch. If his mom saw him giving people food to Pompom again, he was going to get in trouble. When he was sure her back was turned, he nudged Pompom with his foot and waved a piece of popcorn back and forth so the dog would see it when he finally opened his eyes.

Once Pompom saw it, he was immediately on his feet, tail waggling affectionately in hopes his good mood would make him deserving of food.

Rex tossed him a piece of popcorn, but it fit the floor before Pompom could snap at it. After verifying that the sound of Pompom's nails on the hardwood floors didn't alert his parents, Rex threw another piece of popcorn into the air, higher this time. Pompom missed it with his teeth, but quickly scurried over to where it lay next to the TV.

Undiscouraged, Rex threw another piece which Pompom _almost_ caught.

"Okay, you have to catch it this time—it's your last chance," Rex said, tossing another piece. Pompom, closer than ever before to catching the treat, lunged into the air for it. The popcorn hit his nose and Rex felt his stomach tighten and his eyes go wide as the piece of food bounced into the kitchen. Pompom ran after it, but didn't catch it before the lady of the house caught him in the act.

"Rex! What have I _told you_ about feeding Pompom our food!?" Her voice had reached its shrillest level in a matter of seconds. Usually it took more than one piece of popcorn to do that.

"S-sorry," Rex stammered. Pompom, having licked the floor clean of popcorn, scurried back to Rex for more.

"Don't. Do it. Again," his mother said firmly.

Rex started eating his popcorn on his own, trying to ignore the sad, dejected looks Pompom was giving him. Another couple of minutes went by before Weevil texted him again.

"Poofball can't do it can she?" Weevil asked. Rex felt his eye twitch in irritation, hearing Weevil's laugher in his head.

"It's Pompom! He's a boy!" Rex texted back.

"Who names a boy dog Pompom?"

"My mother."

"He still isn't smart enough to catch the popcorn."

"He is so!"

"Is not."

Growling, Rex took another piece of popcorn from the bowl and tossed it into the air. This time, Pompom lunged, opening his jaws to expose his mouth full of razor sharp teeth, and snapped down on the yellow fluff in midair.

"Ha! I _knew_ he could do it!"

"Rex, what did I _just_ tell you!"

At the sound of his mother's voice, Rex's feelings of pride immediately shriveled and died—replaced only by horror.

"Weevil said Pompom couldn't catch the popcorn. I just wanted to—"

"I don't care who put you up to it! I told you not to do it!" His mother was glaring at him from the kitchen doorway, hands on her hips. A few seconds later, his father appeared behind her and Rex's stomach twisted into knots.

"You're grounded," his father said, no expression on his face but disappointment.

"But I—"

"I don't want to hear it," his father interjected. "Your mother told you not to do it. It's time to put Pompom outside for the night anyway. Go hook him up."

"Aw, can't he stay inside tonight? He can sleep in my room," Rex said. He hated that his parents made him keep Pompom outside all night. Having a dog to steal the foot of his bed was part of the whole boy-and-his-dog routine.

"No. You know he starts howling at the crack of dawn and he sheds too much. I don't want his hair all over your bedding," his mother said. "Put him out and go to bed."

"But my movie's not over," Rex argued.

"I don't care! Put him out, take your shower, and go to bed!"

Rex sighed and got up from the couch. When he tried to text Weevil back before taking Pompom to the backyard, his mother snatched his phone away and pushed him toward the door.

Once poor Pompom was chained up outside by his dog house (brought from their old home since Pompom apparently didn't deserve new things), Rex went back inside where his phone was returned by his mother who was scowling at him.

"You ought to do something about your hair," she said, pushing his trademark red hat aside to pull at his lavender bangs. "The roots are growing in and you look ridiculous."

"I'm gonna do something," Rex muttered, fixing his hat.

"Good," his father said. "Your mom put some brown hair dye in the bathroom so you can fix it before school tomorrow before you get picked on by your new classmates."

"Brown?" Rex said, shaking his head. "No, I bought some more purple last night before the move. I'm gonna fix my hair—I'm going to dye the roots back."

"Oh no," his mother said, shaking her head and turning away from him. "I thought you were done with that."

"It's my signature!" Rex argued.

"One day you're gonna grow out of this crazy hair fad," his father said. "You're lucky I don't cut your hair off in your sleep." It would sound more threatening if his dad actually cared about how Rex looked. Once he realized Rex wasn't going to be his little sports star, he kind of quit trying to bond.

It wasn't really as sad as it sounded. His dad didn't hate him. Rex just got along better with his mom.

"Oh, don't make threats about his hair," his mother said, straightening Rex's hat and smoothing down his bangs. "I think it's…cute. All the kids are doing it these days."

Yup, just like Weevil always said—Rex was a bona fide momma's boy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Dead Man Walking

**Chapter Contains: **Violence, Sexual Harassment

**Author's Note: **Time to meet the bad guy of the story—then it's the end of exposition and time to start this plot!

( ) ( ) ( )

"Oh, come here! Your tie is crooked!"

"Mom, it's fine!"

"No—No, it's _crooked!_"

Rex was trying to steal away out the front door of the home, his backpack slung casually over one shoulder, his freshly dyed bangs perfectly in place, but his mother would not let him leave. First she insisted that he needed to eat more for breakfast, then when he was eating she insisted that he brush his hair again, now it was his tie. It was like she _wanted_ him to be late.

"Mom, stop it! Weevil is here. We're going to walk together—you're embarrassing me!"

"Walk together? I thought he went to that private high school."

"He does, but we're walking the same way. Now let me go!" Rex had to pry his tie away from her hands in order to successfully escape through the front door. Outside, Weevil was cackling at him, having heard the entire argument from the front steps.

"You're such a momma's boy, dino-brain," Weevil said, cackling shrilly.

"Shut up. I tried to get her off me, but she wouldn't let go!"

"That's not something you should brag about. People will know your whole family is strange," Weevil said, still laughing.

"Ugh! I didn't mean it like that, bug-boy!"

Weevil continued poking fun at him all the way to the gates of Rex's new high school, and even for a little longer as he walked away. Rex spouted a few insults after him and rushed through the gates. Only a few students were still making their way into the building and Rex really didn't want to be late on his first day.

After being shown the school the weekend before, Rex was quickly able to find his way to his homeroom class and found an empty seat in the back of the third row of desks where he collapsed—out of breath—three minutes before the bell rang.

Immediately, the whispers began when people spotted his trademark, lavender bangs. Was that Rex Raptor? The Dinosaur Duelist? No, it's gotta be a look-alike, right? (Or the more painful whispers like) Who would want to look like him? I heard he's a jerk. Didn't he lose his first match at Duelist Kingdom?

Once the teacher arrived and introduced him, the whispers all stopped. He did his best to act humble since his former attitude had lost him every friend he'd ever had except Weevil.

After homeroom, Rex had Algebra which was a total bore. Once again he had to deal with the whispers, but time a shy girl with a long braid actually approached him. She asked him if he really was Rex Raptor, and he replied (as humbly as possible while grinning like a mad man from the pride of being recognized) that he was.

"Is it really true you make people give you their rarest cards in order to get your autograph?" The girl asked, her innocent eyes suddenly becoming very bitter and harsh. Rex sweatdropped and scratched the back of his head nervously.

"Eh—Well… Yeah. But i-it was meant to be a joke. It was stupid. I-I've moved past that now," Rex said nervously.

"Because he doesn't have any fans left," some kid sitting behind him mumbled.

"My brother…he's got a dinosaur deck too," the girl said, blinking again. Innocently.

"Does he?" Rex asked, blushing at the attention. Deep down he was terrified that she was about to say he'd swindled her brother out of his rarest card. Actually, he was praying that he hadn't. If he did, he'd give it back—he swore he'd give this girl's brother his card back. Maybe even some other cards too, just to pay down his karma.

"Yes. He's a really big fan of yours."

"Um… I hope I didn't do something to offend him," Rex said, unable to take the anxiety building up inside of him.

"No," the girl said, laughing politely. "He'd just be really excited to know I go to school with you now."

"Oh," Rex said. He was about to tell her that he was nothing special—that she didn't have to be nervous to talk to him or anything like that—but a paper ball smacked into his head and fell down onto his desk. He looked around and a boy in the front row was glaring daggers at him. He didn't have to un-crumple the paper to know what it said. Trying to play it off, Rex laughed and turned back to the girl. "Well, if your brother is ever around after school I can give him some dueling tips."

"He'd like that," the girl said, smiling and turning to face the chalkboard as the teacher walked in.

Just before lunch, Rex was assigned to a gym class. He already had his own locker with clothes to change into, but the locker was the least of his concerns. At first, everything seemed normal. The other boys were yelling to one another about their classes and what they did over the weekend. A couple of kids exchanged a wad of cash and a small brown bag. It was fine and Rex was able to start changing without any unwanted eyes staring at him.

Then it all changed. Suddenly, everyone stopped talking and Rex—pulling on a pair of red gym-shorts—felt a piercing gaze on the back of his head. When he slowly turned around, pulling the shorts on over his boxers, a tall guy with short black hair was staring at him.

"What?" Rex asked, reaching into his locker for his white t-shirt.

The guy said nothing, just stared and started to smirk. Rex looked around at the others, but everyone else was busily tying their shoes. They didn't look like they wanted anything to do with the tall guy or his interest in Rex. It was like they were all afraid of him.

"That's a pretty hair color. It matches your eyes," the guy said.

"Thanks," Rex spat, his tone spiteful.

"Does the carpet match the drapes?"

"Does the _what_ match the _what?_" Rex asked, pulling on his shirt quickly and glaring at the tall guy who was still smirking.

"The carpet," the guy said, sneering. "Does it match the drapes?" He reached for Rex's face as if he really thought Rex would let him touch his hair. Rex backed away, his body striking the lockers behind him.

"That's none of your business!" Rex shouted, trying to sound fierce but sounding more like a cat that had been stepped on. "Who asks someone that!?" He looked around at the other boys, but they were all leaving with their heads down. All Rex knew was that he didn't want left alone with this guy.

"You're right. How rude of me. I'm Takeshi." Rex shuddered and quickly grabbed his gym shoes out of the locker.

"You're gonna make me late for class," Rex growled, slipping on the shoes while Takeshi stared at him.

Rex escaped to the gym, muttering under his breath about how much of a creep that guy was.

"You'll wanna watch out," one of the boys waiting in the gym whispered when Rex arrived.

"No kidding. The guy's a freak."

"Really," the other boy said, staring Rex dead in the eyes. "Watch out for Takeshi. His dad is the school's superintendent. He can do anything he wants and the teachers won't do a thing about it. He beat up Shinohara in the lunch room last month and didn't even get detention."

_Great,_ Rex thought. That was exactly the kind of person he needed watching him change clothes for gym every day.

Takeshi was late to class, but as the other student had predicted, the teacher didn't say a word to him. They played a game of basketball, and the entire time Rex could feel Takeshi's eyes on him. If he looked in Takeshi's direction, the boy would be staring and grinning. It made Rex more than uncomfortable.

When class was over, Rex was determined to change as quickly as possible. Fortunately, the school didn't make post-gym class showers mandatory and he wouldn't have to get naked in front of the boy with the predatory eyes.

Once Rex's shirt was off, he immediately reached for his uniform undershirt. Once it was on and his chest was at least covered, Rex stepped out of his gym-shorts and tried to pull on his heavy, black uniform pants. Unfortunately, Takeshi stepped into sight as soon as Rex had one leg in his trousers.

Rex froze for a second and then tried to quickly get the pants on the rest of the way. That was when Takeshi pushed him over, causing him to fall over the bench in the center of the locker aisle and hit his head on the concrete floor.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Takeshi said, offering Rex his hand. "That looked like it hurt."

"Why did you push me?" Rex snapped, pulling away from Takeshi's hand.

"No, you see, I don't answer your questions until you answer mine," Takeshi spat, his eyes going dark. Rex swallowed hard and quickly worked his pants up the rest of the way before getting off the floor. "You got a purple patch down there too, dinosaur boy?"

"You're sick," Rex spat. He changed his shoes and then grabbed the rest of his uniform out of his locker and closed it, making sure the lock was closed. He put on his uniform button-down shirt and tie by the door of the locker room, ignoring the sad and worried looks his classmates were giving him as they left. Rex pulled on his blazer in the hallway and waited in the gym for the bell to ring.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Dead Man Walking

**Chapter Contains: **Violence, Rape/Non-Con

( ) ( ) ( )

When Rex got out of school, Weevil was at the gates waiting for him. He had a smirk plastered on his lips and Rex hurried over to him. Takeshi was also in Rex's last period class and the guy had followed Rex to his locker once the day was over. He wanted to get as far away from Takeshi and the school as possible.

"What's the matter with you? Make enemies already?" Weevil asked, laughing.

"You could say that, but I didn't do anything to the guy," Rex said.

"Did he beat you up?" Weevil asked, watching as Rex rubbed the back of his head.

"Not really. He pushed me over when I was changing after gym class. I hit my head."

"What did you say to make him mad?" Weevil asked. He showed concern, knowing what it was like to get bullied. They'd been beaten up side-by-side before—seen each other cry from pain before. It was the sort of fate neither of them wished on the other. It was that mutual "affection" was turned into a friendship after a while.

"He was watching me change and then he asked me if the curtain matched the drapes," Rex grumbled, adjusting his messenger bag.

"Oh," Weevil said, scrunching his nose. "I get that too every now and then. Hopefully he won't take it upon himself to find out."

Rex looked at Weevil's face and saw a bit of trauma flash in his eyes.

"Unfortunately, I think that's where this is going," Rex muttered. "He's the son of the superintendent. He gets away with everything."

"Well, you could always just show him the carpet and settle it before he does it himself," Weevil suggested. It was probably the most practical solution, but Rex didn't feel like exposing any part of his body to Takeshi, even if he kept his junk covered and only showed hair.

"I don't think that'll really work on him. The other guys act like they're terrified of him. Usually a guy like him has a group of people who back him up. Takeshi…he doesn't have i_any_/i friends."

"It's only been a day," Weevil said. "Maybe his friends were home sick."

"Believe it or not, Weevil, you're not helping," Rex muttered.

( ) ( ) ( )

For the next week of school, Takeshi continued staring at Rex while he changed his clothes. As the days went by, he got more physical however. Once he even ran his hand down Rex's bare spine when he was reaching for his shoes after taking off his shirt. Then, on Friday, Takeshi went in for a grope. When Rex shoved him, he was punched and then kicked in the groin.

The next week didn't go much better. What was supposed to be a fun, exciting, fresh start was turning into an anxious nightmare. Sure, Rex was making some new friends like the girl in his math class and a couple boys in his history class, but he still dreaded waking up in the morning knowing that he would have to see Takeshi and put up with his harassment.

It wasn't until a month in that things got out of hand. The harassment, one day, became more violent than before. Rex had been trying to change back into his school uniform when Takeshi came in. He pushed him over like he did almost every day, but this time kept knocking him back down until everyone else was done changing and had left.

Rex swore under his breath when the realization sunk in that he was entirely alone in the room with Takeshi.

"What's your problem, man?" Rex spat, trying to get up from the floor. Takeshi grabbed him by the shoulder and slammed him back up against lockers, making the cold metal cut into his back. Rex gasped and tried to squirm away, but all his efforts earned him was a painful punch to the face.

Rex cried out and slumped down onto the floor where he was made to roll over to dodge kicks directed at his face. Above him, Takeshi said nothing. Usually Rex's attackers ranted at him about his cocky attitude and how pathetic he was. Takeshi was terrifyingly quiet, barely even grunting when his feet and fists connected with Rex's face and ribs.

Blood was pooling on the concrete floor as Rex rolled over onto his stomach and covered his head with his hands. Takeshi just kept kicking, becoming more brutal and more violent when Rex tried to crawl away.

"Come here," Takeshi said, fisting a hand in Rex's hair after the beating had gone on for over ten minutes—an eternity when time was measured in pain and bruises.

Rex tried to scream for help, but Takeshi wrapped a hand around his neck to silence him. He didn't squeeze hard—careful for some reason not to leave bruises on his neck. Rex guessed even privileged kids would go to jail for attempted murder.

"What do you want?" Rex choked, clawing at Takeshi's hands and squirming against the cool steel of the lockers.

"You know what I told you about asking questions," Takeshi hissed. "Now you're gonna answer my question first—does the carpet match the drapes, pretty boy?" Rex gagged as Takeshi's breath hit against his face. Their noses were almost touching and Rex pressed back harder against the lockers in a vain attempt to get away.

"Why do you care?" Rex groaned, feeling his cheeks burn with humiliation when Takeshi grabbed the front of his gym-shorts.

When Rex had told his father about Takeshi's inappropriate question, his father had told him he'd brought it on himself. People, in his father's opinion, were bound to ask him questions like that when he insisted on having his hair dyed an unnatural color. His father probably hadn't expected things to end up quite like this.

"What do you know—brown. I thought it would be purple. You let me down." Takeshi started laughing when Rex's gym-shorts and boxers fell down to his ankles. Rex squirmed uncomfortably, trying to get out of Takeshi's grasp. He kept hoping another class would come in and put a stop to the attack, but no one came.

"Let me go," Rex grunted. "You've got your answer—leave me alone!"

"Why, are you scared?" Takeshi taunted. Rex's breath caught in his throat when one of the taller boy's hands began stroking up his thigh. There was no way out for him, and the harder he fought, the more his back was cut up by the lockers.

Then, all of a sudden, Rex was spun around and his face was slammed into the metal of the locker over and over until he stopped fighting and slumped down onto the floor. His head was spinning and his ears were ringing. He tried to move but his arms wouldn't cooperate.

Before Rex could even fully grasp how compromising his situation was, he felt Takeshi's hands rake over his back. He was scratched from the nape of his neck all the way down to the curve of his ass. Rex tried to crawl forward, but Takeshi grabbed him by the thighs.

"Let me go," Rex said, no conviction in his tone. He knew from years of experience in getting beaten up that no amount of pleading ever helped. Takeshi would stop only when he was ready to stop.

"Hang on, pretty," Takeshi said, laughing and cackling the way Weevil would whenever a cruel idea struck him. Rex shuddered and let his eyes scan the locker room floor. When Takeshi took his hands off of him for a few seconds, Rex lunged forward in an attempt to crawl away. He didn't care if he ran into the hallway with no pants on at all and with nothing to cover him—just as long as he got i_away./i_

But Takeshi didn't give him that chance. He grabbed Rex's head and slammed it into the floor. For Rex, everything went red and then black. He heard a crackling sound, then silence, then the ringing of his ears again, and then felt a jarring, horrible pain shoot through his entire body.

Rex came back to consciousness with a stifled scream. There was something crammed into his mouth to gag him and something i_else/i_ had forced into his body from behind. Tears were running down Rex's cheeks before he could even register what was happening. The pain kept building and tearing deeper into him.

He could feel Takeshi's weight pressing down on his back, he could feel something being forced into his body and then pulled back out—over and over until Rex was screaming into the gag from the pain.

Rex clawed at the floor, trying so hard to get away but unable to. Takeshi had his nails digging into Rex's hips, breaking the skin as made Rex's body push back to meet the brutal thrusts.

He tried and tried to pull his body away, but Takeshi just laughed at him—a booming, evil laugh. The more he fought, the more violent Takeshi became. When Rex's screams of pain and fear became too loud, Takeshi slammed his face into the floor again.

Finally, Rex gave up. He lay limp on the floor, sobbing and shaking as his body was torn apart. Takeshi kept jerking his hips backwards, forcing himself in deeper and deeper each time. When he came, Rex cried out from the burning hot sting and started clawing at the floor again, tearing at his fingernails and bloodying his own fingers.

Takeshi pulled out once he was done and stood up, looming over Rex who wasted no time curling into a ball on the rough floor.

"Clean up," Takeshi spat.

Rex just trembled sobbed into the gag in his mouth. His jaw ached too much to even spit it out and he was afraid that if he did, Takeshi would replace it with his fist or his foot.

"Clean up!" Takeshi yelled, reaching down and grabbing Rex by the hair. He half-dragged, half-carried him to the practically abandoned showers in the back of the gym and turned on the cold water. Rex screamed and tried to escape the frigid stream, but Takeshi just pushed him back under it. The water coming off Rex's body was pink and red—stained with blood. "You can tell the principal about this, but he's not gonna believe you," Takeshi said as Rex stood, shaking under the spray of water. "You're just a washed up has-been. You're desperate for attention. You probably did all this to yourself," he added, gesturing to the marks all over Rex's body.

Takeshi hadn't said a word when the attack began, but now that it was over the words never stopped. He said terrible things—things that cut worse than knives. Every fear he'd ever had, every insecurity, Takeshi _iknew/i_ and Takeshi _iexploited./i_

The bell rang and Takeshi disappeared. Fearing an audience to his bloody, weepy mess, Rex pulled the gag out of his mouth—a rolled up sock from god knows where—and stumbled over to his locker. He could barely walk, and every motion his legs went through caused excruciating pain. Rex picked up his boxers and uniform pants off of the floor and cried out in agony as he pulled them up. He heard footsteps coming and pulled on his undershirt which stuck to his wet, bloody skin. He barely had time to get his button-down on before the other students rushed into the locker room.

He didn't look up to see their confused expressions. Rex bit back cries of pain as he pulled on his shoes and blazer. Without looking back, Rex limped out of the locker room and into the hall. With his hair sticking to his scalp and dripping with water, Rex found his locker and retrieved his messenger bag and house keys. With three more classes left in the day, Rex limped home. Still bleeding, still crying.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **Dead Man Walking

**Chapter Contains: **Sorrow

( ) ( ) ( )

The pain Rex was experiencing had reached uncharted levels by the time he reached his front door. The tears hadn't stopped since he'd left the school, every step he took causing more and more pain until his vision became swimmy and even breathing hurt. He had to force himself to walk up the three steps to his front door, and sobbed when he reached the last one. There was blood trickling down his thigh and running down his brow from the split in his forehead. His head and his ribs ached, his heart kept pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears which still rang from the blows he received to the head.

With a shaking hand, he took his house keys out of his messenger bag and unlocked the front door. He waited until he'd stepped inside and closed the door behind him before he let the pain finally overcome him. He sank to his knees and let out loud cry of anguish, lowering his head to the cold floor and covering it with his hands as if anticipating another blow.

He didn't care how weak his hysteric choking and sobbing made him sound. His parents were both at work at this time and the house was empty—or at least it was supposed to be.

As he lay on the floor, he heard over the sound of his cries, a shout and then the sound of heavy footsteps coming from upstairs. He tried to silence himself, but the humiliation began to sink in and cut him just as deep as the pain. Instead of standing up and wiping the blood and tears off his face, he continued to lie on the floor and sob.

"Rex? _Rex,_ are you okay?"

All of a sudden, Rex's mother had appeared next to him and was kneeling at his side. She rubbed his shoulder, not knowing how painful her touch was as she rubbed against the deep scratch marks on his back left by Takeshi's nails and the rough texture of the locker doors.

"What are you doing home so early? What's the matter?" She kept rubbing his back even though he shuddered at her touch. "Your hair is soaking wet—what happened? Rex… Come on. What happened?" When all he did was cry, her tone went from understanding to frustrated. She was used to seeing him after getting beaten up, and even though Rex knew he was a wimp, he also knew he'd never came home and cried this much. He couldn't even speak he was so terror-stricken. Why was she getting angry with him when everything was obviously so, so wrong. "Rex. Tell me what's wrong. Did you get in a fight again?"

Rex slowly made himself sit up, but when he tried to look at his mother he was overcome with shame. Instead, he just wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face into her shoulder like a child, weeping. Maybe realizing that something was truly, deeply wrong, she held him in return and started rubbing the back of his head soothingly.

"What?" She asked him, kissing his head and coddling him as he cried into her shoulder. "Lean back. Let me see your face," she said, probably feeling the blood from his busted forehead seeping into the collar of her work shirt.

Rex tried to hold onto her, wanting to keep his face and his shameful weakness hidden. She wouldn't let him, though. She grabbed his forearms and pushed him back. When his face was finally level with her own, she winced in vicarious pain and reached up to push his purple and bloodied bangs out of his face.

"Oh, Rex… You might need stitches for that. Come here—Let's go upstairs to the bathroom and I'll clean it up." She took his cry of pain as an affirmative answer and started pulling him to his feet. Rex almost fell back onto his knees as a sharp bolt of pain tore up his spine. His mother caught him and made him lean into her body as she moved him toward the staircase. As she guided him up the stairs, he started screaming again despite his best attempts to choke back the sound. "Did they break your ankle or your leg? You're limping so bad…" His mother kept speaking to him in a soft and gentle tone, realizing that he wasn't crying for the attention alone.

Rex sank down onto the floor of the bathroom, lying on his side because he couldn't bear to sit down. His mother looked at him with pity and fear, chewing her bottom lip as she tried to think of the best course of action.

"It's okay. I'm gonna take care of you—Remember, I used to be a nurse. I know what to do."

Rex wasn't so concerned about how his mother was going to stop the cut on his forehead from bleeding. He was more afraid that she was going to find out what really happened. Terrified she'd know just by looking at him that the usual beatings he'd get for his ego had turned into something perverted and even more painful.

After failing several times to get Rex to sit up, his mother just worked on his forehead as he lay on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. She wiped up the blood with a wet towel and dabbed on a stinging antiseptic before applying a butterfly bandage. When she was finished treating his head wound, she started trying to take off Rex's school blazer. He fought her, knowing the scratches on his back were leaving little needle points of blood on the back of his white shirt.

Still, she won since any and all movements caused him pain and she saw the blood on his back.

"Rex, what did they _do_ to you?" She asked, pushing up the back of his shirt and seeing for herself the long scratch marks that went down past the waistband of his school trousers. "Rex…"

Though it was no use, Rex pulled his shirt back down over his back and tried to pull away from his mother's touches.

"You need to answer me. What did they do?"

Rex couldn't say. He didn't want to. He didn't want her to know. What would she think of him? What was his dad going to say?

Rex knew what he'd say… _"That's what you get for dying your hair like that. The other boys are bound to mess with you. They're gonna wonder if the carpet matches the drapes, you know what I mean? Then they're gonna take it upon themselves to figure it out. Maybe if you didn't dye it purple they wouldn't think you're into boys—then they wouldn't mess with you." _That's what his father would say…if he didn't dye his hair—if he'd just used the brown dye his mom had bought him to get rid of the lavender strands—none of this would've happened. He'd gotten what he'd had coming to him. He got what he deserved.

"Rex, how far down do those cuts go?" His mother asked, touching his back where the scratch marks were. "Answer me. Rex, come on. What did they do to you?"

Finally, Rex was able to stop sobbing long enough to speak a few words.

"Beat me up," Rex said, restating the obvious. "Pushed me into the shower and turned the water on."

"Didn't anyone help you? Where was the teacher?"

"Class was over," Rex whimpered. "No one came."

Despite his shriek of pain and his desperate attempts to push her away, his mother forced him to sit up so she could look him over.

"Your fingernails are all broken," she said, looking over his hands. His fingertips were bloodied and cracked from when he tried to crawl away from Takeshi.

"I tried to get away," Rex cried, leaning his forehead down against her shoulder again. She held him in a gentle embrace and stroked his hair—her fingers seeking more bruises and bumps rather than solely comforting him.

"This is the worst I've seen you," his mother mumbled. "What did you to make them so mad at you?"

"It was one guy, Mom," Rex cried. "I didn't do anything to him."

"One boy did all of this?" His mother asked, disbelief in her tone.

"He's really tall," Rex whispered.

"You must've done something to make him this mad…" Her tone wasn't accusing; she was just probing, trying to make him tell her why he was attacked.

"Wouldn't answer his question," Rex mumbled, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"What question?" His mother asked, grabbing his hand so she could wash the blood off of his fingertips and split nails.

"If the carpet matched the drapes," Rex whispered. The humiliation burned in his chest even stronger when his mother suddenly met his eyes. There was an all-knowing look on her face and Rex turned away.

"What was this boy's name?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Rex!"

Rex shuddered at her anger and tried to pull his hand away from her. She held it tight and started dabbing it with antiseptic where the skin was split.

"What else did this boy do to you?"

"Nothing," Rex whispered, wincing as the antiseptic added a fresh pain on top of all his agony.

"You've got scratches going all the way down your back to god knows where, he pushed you into a shower… Rex, did he do anything else to hurt you?" She started cleaning his other hand and Rex looked at her sadly. He couldn't tell her. She'd try to get Takeshi in trouble and no good would come of it. The school wouldn't believe him. There was no evidence… In the meantime, while his mother waged war against the school for protecting Takeshi, Takeshi would just keep using Rex as his personal punching bag and slam piece.

"What else is there to do?" Rex mumbled. In some ways, he was admitting to her that everything that could be done to him had happened on that locker room floor. At the same time, he was pretending to be naïve, like the possibility of rape never dawned on him.

His mother apparently believed the latter.

"Okay. Do you have any more cuts or scrapes? I don't want you getting an infection. Gyms are filthy, bacteria farms."

"No," Rex murmured, looking down at the floor as he realized he would rather have her know than keep the secret. It felt too late to go back now, and keeping quiet—he knew—was the only safe thing for him to do.

"Rex, is there something you're not telling me?"

"Why are you home from work?" Rex whispered, wanting to change the conversation.

"I came back to get my cellphone. It was my lunch break," his mother said, caressing his cheek gently.

"You're going to be late," Rex whispered.

"I don't care if I'm late back to work. Rex, you're covered in blood and you're in pain. I'm not _going_ back to work today. I need to make sure you don't go into shock."

She stood up from the bathroom floor and forced Rex to do the same, grabbing him under the arms and pulling on him despite his gasps of pain.

"Go change out of your uniform. I'll put it in the wash before it stains…" She escorted him to his bedroom and insisted on helping him change out of his shirt. Of course, she focused a lot of attention on the long scratches down his back which Rex knew extended to the curve of his thigh. "Rex…" His mother traced the scratches with the tip of her finger slowly. "You would tell me if that boy did…something else, right?"

It was like she saw right through him.

"Like what?" Rex asked, his voice quiet and shaky. He wished she would know without him telling. He wished she would know but not make him go to the hospital or make a report. He wanted to comfort, but he didn't want the consequences. Takeshi would beat him worse if he found out that Rex told…

"You're acting…different than before."

"It just hurts a lot," Rex mumbled.

"But _where_ is it hurting? You're limping and you have these scratches." Her voice was so pained. "And what's this bruise?" As Rex was trying to pull on a clean t-shirt, his mother saw one of the bruises Takeshi had left on the top of his hip—where Takeshi had held him and pulled him back to meet the brutal, violent thrusts.

"What bruise?" Rex asked, acting like he didn't notice.

"Rex, please tell me what happened. I want to help you." She sounded like he was about to cry and Rex started shaking again. He couldn't tell her now. It would break her heart…

"He just took my clothes, Mom," Rex whispered. "And pushed me into the shower." He couldn't look at her when he said it. For her, that said enough.

( ) ( ) ( )

Weevil knocked on the front door of Rex's new house. He'd waited over twenty minutes outside of Rex's school, but he never came out. He tried texting him, even calling, but Rex never replied. Weevil knew he'd been having trouble with that Takeshi kid and he had a sinking feeling that it had finally escalated into a brawl.

When Rex's mother answered the door, her face looked haggard and her eyes were red-rimmed and bleary. Immediately, Weevil began to expect the worst. Was Rex dead? Mrs. Raptor used to be a nurse before she started losing her temper with her patients. She was used to treating Rex after he got caught in fights. Why was she crying this time?

"Is…Rex okay?" Weevil decided to ask instead of seeing whether or not he was at home. "He wasn't there when I went by his school."

"Um, well…" She looked over her shoulder at the staircase and sighed. "Maybe some company would do him some good. He got in a fight, but he won't tell me what really happened. Come in—I'll call your mother. Do you want to stay for dinner?"

Weevil knew he didn't really have a say in whether or not he stayed for dinner. If Rex's mom was calling his mother, the decision had already been made. His mom had an inability to speak her mind when posed with Mrs. Raptor's demands. She was rather weak willed, and even if she wanted her son home for dinner, she'd never tell the "Raptor Woman" about it.

"Is he in his room?" Weevil asked, stepping inside and letting Mrs. Raptor close the door behind him.

"Yes. If… Oh, if he's sleeping I guess you could just come down and…watch TV." What she meant was he wasn't allowed to leave until he forced Rex to tell him what happened so he could report back to her. What she didn't understand was that Weevil would never break Rex's trust that way.

So Weevil went slowly up the stairs, prepared to see Rex at his very worst. He'd seen him with blackened eyes and broken bones before, but he couldn't imagine what must've happened to him to make his mom cry.

"Hey, Rex, you up?" Weevil asked, opening Rex's bedroom door and peering in. Rex was lying in bed with his back to the door, only a tuft of hair coming up from the blankets. It looked like he was asleep, but Weevil felt he'd rather hide out in Rex's room and wait for him to wake up rather than go downstairs and watch TV with his friend's emotional mom. "Rex? Are you awake?" Weevil asked again. He went over to the bed and reached out to touch Rex's shoulder.

As soon as his fingertips brushed the blanket over Rex's shoulder, Rex cried out and rolled over onto his stomach. Weevil, startled, jumped back and held his hand to his chest as if it'd been bitten.

"Weevil?" Rex choked, blinking through his sleepy, apparently tearful daze. "What are you doing here?"

"You weren't at your school when I got there," Weevil said, trying not to stare at the butterfly bandage holding Rex's split forehead together. "I was worried something happened to you. Guess I was right."

"You were worried?" Rex said, sounding awestruck.

"Yeah, dino-brain, I was worried about you. We _are_ friends, aren't we?" Weevil said, trying not to show how concerned he actually was. Rex didn't usually cry a lot when he got beaten up, but this time it looked like he'd been crying since it happened—nonstop, even in his sleep.

"Don't…don't worry. I'm fine." Except Rex didn't look fine. He looked like he was about to start sobbing again. Even though Rex's mom wanted Weevil to delve into that sorrow and figure out what pain it was that had Rex so weak, Weevil couldn't do it. It hurt him to see Rex sad. He didn't want to make it worse to make it better—he just wanted Rex to smile or start calling him insulting names like "bug-brain" and "earthworm."

"You'd better be," Weevil said. "I got some new cards yesterday and I want to try them out on your puny dinosaur deck."

A spark of passion lit up Rex's eyes—but only for a second. As soon as it came, it went and Rex was back to looking close to tears.

"Maybe some other time. You'd just win anyway… You always win."

That didn't sound like Rex at all. He was always ready to fight.

"You must've taken some strong pain medication to be talking like that," Weevil said, keeping an upbeat tone. "The Rex Raptor I know _never_ turns down a duel."

"I don't feel good," Rex grumbled, curling back up in his blankets.

"So… Takeshi finally made a move, huh?" Weevil asked, realizing that Rex's mood wasn't going to improve with any amount of banter.

"Yeah," Rex mumbled. Usually when he was hurt, Rex always talked tough to make himself look better. This time, Rex just laid there letting his fragility show.

"Your mom is crying," Weevil mumbled, not sure what else to say to get a reaction out of him.

Rex sighed heavily and then rolled over onto his stomach with a loud groan of pain. He mumbled something into his pillow but Weevil couldn't understand what it was.

"Did Takeshi break anything?" Weevil asked, only remembering Rex this upset when his dueling arm had been broken by a thug.

"You could say that," Rex muttered, rolling onto his side so he could face Weevil who sat down on the floor.

"What happened?" Weevil asked, looking at Rex with what he hoped came across as compassion. Almost instantly, Rex was blinking back tears and hid it by rolling onto his stomach with a quiet cry.

"I don't want to talk about it," Rex said.

"Rex?"

"I _mean_ it. I don't want to talk about it anymore!"

Weevil cringed and decided to leave the conversation at that. Whatever happened had hurt Rex more than physically. And knowing Rex the way he did, Weevil was sure he wouldn't tell anyone the whole story until he was ready—and that might be never.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: **Dead Man Walking

**Chapter Contains: **Mild violence

( ) ( ) ( )

Despite his mother's urgings and his father's uninformed shouts, Rex stayed in bed instead of eating. Even though his mom kept pushing it, Weevil managed to escape the awkward, tense household.

Rex's mom tried to bring Rex food in bed, but he refused it and she eventually gave up. After a few more hours, he forced himself to get out of bed to use the bathroom and shower. When he was finished and went back into his room dressed in a loose-fitting t-shirt and sweatpants, his mother was sitting on his bed with a small plastic cup in her hand.

"What are you doing?" Rex asked. Her face had a tired, almost embarrassed expression and if Rex had felt better he would've tried to find a way to avoid her.

"While you were in the shower I stopped by the emergency room to see one of my old friends. She works in registration, but she was able to help us out."

Rex didn't know where this was going. He was tempted to ask his mom if she really still had friends in the medical field after her freak out, but his humor was dried up and he could barely even keep his thoughts organized long enough to form a sentence.

"Help us with what?" Rex asked, looking at the floor instead of the bed where his mom was sitting. He wanted to lie down, but she was in his way.

"I know you don't want to talk about what happened, but I don't want to risk you getting sick. So I went in, I said they were for me, and Mrs. Matsutani gave them to me off the record." His mother sighed and stood up from the bed. She hesitated for a moment and then walked over to Rex in order to push the cup into his hand. "I love you," she said, kissing him on the temple.

After that, she left him behind to stare at and eventually swallow the colorful pills.

( ) ( ) ( )

Rex stayed in bed for the next two days, refusing to eat until his father complained on the second night. The pain had lessened and the bleeding had stopped, but Rex was still uncomfortable as he forced himself to walk downstairs and sit at the dinner table with his parents.

His mother was overly affectionate with him as she served him and his father. She smoothed his hair, straightened his hat, touched his shoulder, cooked his favorite meal… Rex tried, but he couldn't even offer her a smile for her efforts. Instead, he just stared down at his plate and started forcing bite after bite of food into his mouth. When swallowing became nearly impossible, he would take a drink of water and try again.

At first, the meal was silent. Rex had nothing he wanted to say, and his mother's focus was on him—her eyes watching him with a pitiful gaze. It was his father who broke the silence.

"I saw that old friend of yours as the gas station," his father said, looking toward his wife.

"Oh? Which friend?" Rex's mother looked at her dinner plate with a strange, curt expression. She didn't have many friends and her husband often used the word sarcastically.

"That nurse—the girl you went to high school with. The one who married the banker." Of course, he didn't know her name.

"Rika Matsutani?" Rex's mother said, looking up quickly. Rex recognized the name from before. Mrs. Matsutani was the one who gave his mother the pills so he wouldn't have to go to the ER himself.

"Yeah… That sounds about right. She told me she saw you the other night at the emergency room."

"Is that so?" she asked, covering her nervousness expertly by shrugging and stuffing her mouth full of food. She was a horrible liar.

"She told me you needed medication but wouldn't let anyone examine you."

"I was fine. I knew what I needed and she got it for me and I left. There was no need for an exam."

"She seemed worried about you. Did something happen? You would tell me if something happened to you, wouldn't you?"

"I went to get some…medication for Rex," she admitted. "I didn't need an exam because the medication wasn't for me."

"That doesn't make any sense," her husband said, shaking his head. "Why wouldn't you take him with you if he needed medicine?"

"He didn't want to go," she said, shrugging.

"Mrs. Matsutani said I should talk to you about what you picked up. What kind of medicine were you getting?"

"Maybe Rika Matsutani should mind her own business," his wife said.

Rex stared down at his plate, unable to eat anymore and feeling like he might throw up. He didn't want to hear this discussion. He didn't want to be a part of it. He wanted to go back to his room and sleep…maybe play a video game if his mind wouldn't rest.

"She wouldn't have said anything if you just went in to get stronger pain pills. What did you get for Rex?"

"I got antibiotics," his wife said firmly. "He was beaten up in a locker room. You know how filthy those places are."

"Why didn't you just tell her that? She acted like something awful happened to you. I was worried."

"What did she say to you?"

"That I should talk to you about your visit to the ER because she was concerned about you."

"We'll talk later, darling," his wife said. "Rex, eat your dinner."

"I can't," Rex mumbled. "Can I—"

"Eat," his father snapped.

Rex stared down at his plate and tried to finish his food. His parents finished long before he did, and once his mother was done eating she took his plate away so he could be excused. As soon as he was upstairs, he heard his parents begin arguing. His dad raised his voice out of concern, hating that there were secrets being kept from him in his own home, but the yelling still put Rex on edge.

The tension built and built until, after about forty-five minutes, his mother was unable to keep the secret any longer. Rex didn't hear what she said, but when the house fell silent he knew his father had been told. The shame bit into him again and Rex laid down on his bed with his blankets over his head, not wanting to hear any more. He wished his father didn't know. Of all the people in the world, he didn't want his dad to know about it.

It was so humiliating. Degrading.

His dad was always trying to get him to act more…mature. More like a "man" should. After he got beat up before, his dad would always say he needed to be more proactive to prevent it from happening. What would his dad think of him now?

Would he think it was Rex's fault?

And maybe it was… Maybe he should've asked to be put in another gym class when Takeshi kept making lewd comments. Maybe he shouldn't have put the stupid streak of lavender in his hair in the first place.

Rex wiped at his eyes, trying to make the tears stop in a desperate attempt to hold on to even the smallest bit of his dignity. That little scrap was ripped from him too when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Rex?" It was his mother, rubbing his shoulder and sitting down beside him on his bed. "You know he's not mad at you, right?"

Mad? Why would he think his father would be mad? Disgusted, yes. Revolted, yes. Ashamed to have such a pathetic excuse for a son, yeah… Angry? No…

"He said… He said if you wanted he could try to get some money together to pay the tuition for the private school. That way you and Weevil could be classmates and…it's probably safer."

There was no talk about going to the police. No pleading for his cooperation. They were content to let it go away with the switching of schools. He guessed that was best anyway. He would never win against Takeshi or his family.

"With buying the new house, it's going to be hard to afford… But I don't want—_we_ don't want you to go back and get put in that situation again or have to be in class with him… It was the son of the superintendent, wasn't it? The boy who keeps picking on you?"

Rex didn't answer. What was the point? She already knew…

"Please say something," she begged.

He had nothing to tell her.

( ) ( ) ( )

After a very lengthy text argument, Weevil decided it would be best if he went to see Rex in person the next day after school. Rex hadn't been to school in almost a week, not even to pick up his homework, so Weevil went to collect his books and papers for him. Rex had given him his locker combination to make it easier, but it was still difficult to get all of the textbooks and papers he needed. Since he wasn't a student at Rex's school, administration didn't make the task so simple. If Rex weren't so obviously miserable and troubled, Weevil would've made a point to give his friend a hard time about all the effort he had to put in.

When he got to Rex's house, Weevil let himself in since Rex didn't answer the door. His parents were both still at work it seemed and the house was mostly quiet.

Rather than awkwardly asking the empty space if anyone was home, Weevil took his phone out of his pocket and texted Rex.

"Are you even awake?" Weevil texted.

It took four minutes for Rex to reply (which Weevil spent standing awkwardly in the Raptor Family living room), and he said to come upstairs. In his room, Rex was playing video games, staring at the handheld device and button-mashing.

"You have enough homework to last five months," Weevil said, dropping the books next to Rex on the bed. His friend looked up at him, his game making a mournful roaring sound implying that his character had died or at least failed in his mission.

"They really let you take my books?" Rex asked.

"I have glasses and I'm in my academy uniform—of course they let me take your books," Weevil said with more than a bit of arrogance. When Rex said nothing in reply, Weevil sighed and took a different approach. "Are you ever going to go back to school?"

Rex lowered his gaze and sighed quietly. It was strange to see him act so afflicted—so vulnerable. Usually after he got beat up, Rex tried to cover the damage to his pride by acting even cockier than normal. Now he just acted…defeated.

"Monday," Rex said softly. "My dad wants me to go back on Monday."

Weevil couldn't tell what it was, but everything from Rex taking such a long time off of school to the way he only dressed in baggy sweaters and sweatpants broadcasted that something had gone wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong. The most time Rex had ever been allowed to take off school after getting beaten up was three days, and that was because he'd also caught a cold at the same time. For his parents to let him stay home for more than a week… Weevil couldn't even imagine what had happened to his friend.

"Are you okay to go back?" Weevil asked. "You look….upset." When it came to being comforting and supportive, Weevil failed. He knew he failed. His family wasn't the emotional type. They were the accept it, move past it, get on with your life type. There wasn't a lot of time to dwell on self-pity. Weevil had always assumed that Rex's family was the same.

"I guess," Rex mumbled. A heaviness showed in his eyes and Weevil cringed. No. His friend was _not_ okay to go back to school.

"Are you…" Weevil stopped and rethought his approach. There was no point to restate the obvious. Rex wasn't okay. Whatever had been said or done to him had rendered him incapacitated. Even over text, Rex seemed to have lost a bit of his fight. He didn't argue as harshly as he used to. His playful attitude had faded and all of his responses were either blunt or emotionless.

The problem was, Weevil didn't know how to get to the bottom of it. He didn't know what to say or what to ask. He felt helpless. He didn't want Rex to get mad at him, but he didn't want his friend to think he didn't care. Weevil did care… He cared a lot.

"Are you going to be okay?" Weevil asked.

"Why wouldn't I?" Rex mumbled.

"Because you have to go back to school and…that guy is there. Takeshi." Weevil bit his lip when he watched visible fear flash across Rex's face. His friend's breath caught in his throat, like a gasp. Whatever Takeshi had done to him, Rex was stricken by the fear of having it done to him again. It had to be in the back of his mind constantly, yet bringing it up still caused him to get choked up.

"We don't have the money for me to transfer," Rex said, his gravelly voice shaking as he curled up on his bed. "If I could just afford the tuition… I don't want to go back."

"Rex… What happened?" Weevil asked. It was too straightforward. He knew that it was, but he didn't know how else to ask.

"He beat me up," Rex muttered. His hunched-forward posture showed that there was more to it than that.

"We've been beaten up a lot," Weevil said.

"I know he'll do it again," Rex said. He immediately looked like he was about to be sick. He tried to stammer out something else, either to discourage his fear or play down his comment, but the nausea appeared to have gotten the better of him and he bolted out of the room.

Weevil thought to follow him, but hesitated. He doubted Rex would want him hovering, and he'd just feel stupid holding Rex's hair as he threw up. It might get the message across to Rex that he wasn't alone and that Weevil was there for him, but it was just too corny.

Over a half hour after he went into the bathroom, Rex stumbled back out looking exhausted and drained. He collapsed back down on his bed and pulled his blankets over his shoulders before turning his focus back to Weevil.

"You're still here?" He asked.

"Duh, dino-brain. You're never going to get all of this homework done by yourself."

So, for the sake of proving his dedication, Weevil nestled down on the floor beside Rex's bed and grabbed one of the text books. For the first time in his life, Weevil was prepared to help someone cheat on their homework for free.

( ) ( ) ( )

Rex swallowed hard and stared through the gate at his school building.

"I guess I'll see you later," Weevil said, patting him on the shoulder before walking away, leaving Rex to approach the school on his own.

Every step he took made Rex's heart pound that much harder. He was waiting for the next attack, expecting Takeshi to jump out from every corner to harm him and degrade him further. His classes, unlike most days, passed by quickly—making gym class come that much sooner.

Rex chewed his lower lips as he walked toward the gym. He felt lightheaded and nauseous, fear plaguing every bit of him as he forced himself to walk into the locker room. The other boys looked at him, the expression on their faces telling him that they _knew._ In Rex's mind, everyone who looked at him _knew._

He didn't see Takeshi, though. Rex changed as quickly as he could, looking over his shoulder every few seconds until he was completely changed and Takeshi still hadn't showed. During the entire gym class, Rex waited for Takeshi to stroll in late. To stand by the doors and watch him… Wait to catch him alone.

Rex's defenses had dropped a little by the time gym class had ended, and he felt a small bit of security as he walked back to the locker room inside the pack of other boys. When he started changing, he still looked over his shoulder, but not as often. However, it felt that as soon as he let his guard down all the way, the voices in the locker room all stopped and Rex felt a chill run down his spine.

He turned to look over his shoulder but was grabbed by the hair and slammed face-first into the edge of his locker door. Rex's eyes went wide as he grunted in pain. No one said anything. They all just hurried their motions and left the room in fear that if they hesitated, the same treatment would happen to them.

"Where've you been, hu?" Came Takeshi's voice, his breath hot in Rex's ear.

"Let me go," Rex said, trying to hold back the panic. He squirmed against the locker, but Takeshi just shoved him again. It took everything he had not to just fall apart. He'd spent days telling himself it wouldn't happen again, that Takeshi had had his fun and had moved on, that he wouldn't be hurt again…

"No, no, no. Hold still—Where do you think you're goin'?"

Rex tried to get free, even trying to sink down onto the floor just to evade Takeshi's hold on him. But all his efforts earned him were repeated slams against the lockers. He slumped forward with his eyes squeezed shut, terrified of what was to come. Over and over, he told himself that it wouldn't happen again. Takeshi wouldn't push him that hard. Takeshi would know Rex might keep it a secret once, but not twice—not multiple times.

"Who'd you tell?" Takeshi asked, yanking Rex's hair and making more than a few strands snap around his fingers. "Huh? You were gone for weeks."

"Let go!" Rex yelled, raising his voice loud enough that _someone_ had to have heard.

"You really think you can get away?" Takeshi sneered. "I _own_ you."

"No you don't!" Rex yelled, fighting tears and shaking but determined to at least sound forceful.

"Oh, I don't?" Takeshi snapped, forcing Rex to turn around before slamming him into the lockers again. Rex winced in pain as his spine collided with the rough metal, but he refused to scream. He couldn't give Takeshi any more satisfaction. "I bet you stay up all night, don't you? Thinking about me—wondering when I'll touch you again." As he said it, Takeshi lowered one of his hands to grab Rex between the legs.

Rex flinched and squirmed under the touch, trying to get away when there was nowhere to go…

"I'll let you go with a warning today, but tomorrow you'd better show me some respect. Do you understand?" Takeshi asked, shoving Rex to the floor. He delivered one final kick to Rex's ribs before walking off.

When he was gone, Rex slowly pulled himself to his feet and finished changing. Every bit of security he had felt was stolen from him now. He knew Takeshi wasn't done with him. And he knew there was nothing he could do about it. The school would protect Takeshi. They'd just say Rex was lying if he told them anything. And he couldn't afford to enroll anywhere else. He was trapped. He was helpless.


End file.
